glow has died out of the western horizon. It is night, and night alone, that drives him back to the crowded haunts of the tourist. This love of living amongst the sunshine and upper snows is the true test of the enthusiast, and marks him off from the tribe of brag and bounce and from all the "doers of the Alps." It must not be assumed that the love of mountains is to be regarded as the first of human duties, or that a man's moral worth can be determined by the usual time of his arrival at a mountain inn; but merely that the mountaineer, the man who can sympathise with every change of light and shadow and who worships the true spirit of the upper world, is distinguished from unregenerate imitators and hypocrites by these characteristics.
My main objection to guide-led parties, however, is to be found in the absolute certainty with which the day's proceedings are carried out. Not merely can the guide "lie in bed and picture every step of the way up," but he can also, whilst so reposing, tell you to the fraction of a minute the exact time you will get to each point in the ascent, and the very moment at which he will return you, safe and sound, to the smiling landlord of your hotel. Now I agree with Landor, that "certainties are uninteresting and sating." When I start in the morning I do not want to know exactly what is going to be done, and exactly how it is all to be carried
